#ligatusalas

[fatebreaking-a]

❤️❤️❤️ ( Ori and Sona for Morg ? ) uwu

@ligatusalas // based on our interactions here and not our hypothetical meme’ing with Ori making Morg a door sign, etc.

Ori: 

“I like her.”

“Oh, I am supposed to say more than this. I understand. She is pretty, kind, and compassionate. She is gentle with me. Morgana is a good person. So I like her.”

“Is that still not enough? I see. In regards to my general opinion of Morgana, she often seems to be a thousand miles away. At times, I feel as if she will disappear if I look away. I am used to that, but I am not used to it not being my fault. I think that...

I feel as though she is someone who has not received love in a very, very long time. She is easily charmed by the simplest acts of kindness and hates to burden others by any means, as if I am the one who will vanish. It reminds me of...” She sighs and stares at the ceiling. “I hate it. I just want her to be happy. She seems so surprised that anyone trusts her or cares about her.

I really, really hate it. It makes me angry. It makes the Ball angry. I want to hurt the person who made her like that. But I should not. Instead, I will support her within my limits. On the matter of romance, I am not well equipped for such things. I do not even know if I will be here tomorrow, how can I be involved romantically with anyone?”

-------------------------------

Sona:

“I do not know what I am supposed to say about a woman I found crying in a cave. My general opinion? She is a woman crying in a cave.” Sona stares back with a look that seems to say, ‘Huh? Are you dumb or something? Idiot.”

“Listen, I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but I’m not going to judge someone’s attractiveness or romantic availability when I found them crying in a cave. What the hell. You @#^#$^#* piece of !@%$. ^$@^#$&%#$%. Sure, whatever. She’s pretty. 

My opinion on her generally is that her long time being an empath has blinded her to her own needs. She is too focused on ‘souls’ and other such nonsense to see the truth standing in front of her. That she is hurting and she ought to accept help when it is given. For someone who so dearly wants to mingle with humans, she sure has trouble accepting her own weakness and asking for help like a human.

That’s something I think Morgana forgets. She’s open with her emotions, but not when others are around. Humans are weak, but what’s wrong with that? Who says you need to be strong all the time.

You don’t need to be strong all the time.”

[divine-righteousness]

Continued from here

There’s a tremor in her hands, blood dripping from the gap in her helmet. In the distance she hears the call of her name, desperate and panicked. The only reply she can give is a weak utterance. “Morgana.” For her sword she reaches, only for her limbs to give out and for her to fall heavily. 

Her wings tremble as they stretch out, before they too sag to the ground. The effort it takes too much. “I’m-” Words are heavy on her tongue. Her vision blacks for a moment.

Sorry. 

@ligatusalas

[jsyndra]

Morgana: I'm a lesbian and I like you.

Syndra: wtf I thought u were an aspect.

[fatebreaking-a]

| @ligatusalas // cont from [here]

Rain drips from her as though she is still in the storm, drawing lines across her face - as though she is crying along with Morgana. As if the storm outside cries too. The musician, with her eyes bright as any star, gaze upon Morgana with an unwavering gaze.

“I heard...” Her hands form the first few words in the Demacian standard for sign language, only to drop away. She would not be understood. Her hands move to different motions, pantomiming instead. First a hand upon heart. ‘I.’ Then to brush against her ear, sliding wet strands back. ‘Hear.’ Then back to her heart, where her hand rolls upward gently and extends, gesturing towards - ‘You.’ And finally, her hand brushes against her own cheek, fingertips seemingly brushing against the corner of her eye, just at the cheekbone. As if to wipe away tears. ‘Tears.’

I heard you crying. I heard the call. I couldn’t pretend not to. These words lay unspoken as she steps closer, as the famous ( or infamous, depending on who you asked ) Sona reaches out with a trembling hand, feeling altogether unsure of herself. She shouldn’t be seeing this. She can’t ignore it. How many times had she wished...

Her business, it seems, is simple compassion. She has not the words to say it. You looked like you needed a friend. Do you need a hug? Let me help you. She can only reach out, can only admit the truth. That she had heard the impossible, she had heard the sound of a lonely woman crying through the rain.

And now she was here, with neither pity nor judgement in her eyes. She was just here and that was all.

[fatebreaking-a]

While Orianna had been out , the angel had been working on something special for her . It had been casually placed on the table , a purple box with a ribbon on it - not too big , not too small , but clearly hers . It had a small note with Orianna's name . She didn't know when she would return exactly so it had been best to leave it for her to find ... Such were human traditions anyways , right ? Inside were a sweater both for her and for ball ( if one could call it that ) .

It takes her a moment to register what the box is. A… what is this exactly? It has ribbons. It’s a box. Logically, it can only have come from Morgana, because the Ball did not put it there and Orianna did not put it there, so it must have come from Morgana.

Logically, that is the only answer. It’s a box with ribbons. There are only three residents. It is from Morgana. It has Orianna’s name on it. So, it must be from Morgana to Orianna. Logically.

That makes it a gift. A… A gift?

Her face scrunches up unexpectedly, even she’s not sure why. Some flaw in her code- her head. Her heart is hammering in her chest as she opens it up and looks it over. Yeah, definitely, without a doubt, this is a…

“It’s a gift, Ball. It’s a gift.” Beep~! “Yeah, a gift. For us.” Beep! “A g-gift.” Beeeep! “A gift. A real gift.” Beep. “From someone, to us.” Bee-eeee-eep. “A… a…” 

Putting the sweater down, she holds Ball to her and rests her head on the metal chassis. Her face is scrunched up as she cries hard. The Ball is crying too, as much as it can as something that doesn’t ‘cry’. 

[fatebreaking-a]

@ligatusalas // requested something fluffy.

“You don’t need to.”

“Sit, Miss Morgana.” Orianna’s voice is soft but insistent as she rests her hand atop Morgana’s for a brief few seconds. It is a gesture Morgana has done to her and she presumes it will be received well, though her hand feels warmer than she expects. Not so warm as the tea in her other hand, however, placed upon the table soundlessly. There is not even a clink as she draws back, fingers slipping back. The Ball has space now to set down its own plate, a small clatter as biscuits clack down.

“This is too much,” Morgana protests of all these little plans and gestures. Orianna shifts, moving her eyes away from her hand back to her friend. Humans had a tendency to not keep eye contact too long, but Orianna’s gaze is even and unwavering as she shakes her head.

“I want to,” she states, walking up behind Morgana. Her hands float up, touching down on either shoulder as she begins to press down. She digs in with her thumbs, traversing across pale skin inch by inch. Her head dips down as her eyes close, lips pressing tentatively against strands of purple and black.

“You do not have to be strong all the time. You are the one who taught me this, are you not? You should show yourself the same kindness you show others.” Orianna mutters as much, continuing her attention bit by bit. She can feel how Morgana’s shoulders relax and the tension eases out of them, so she must be doing a good job. Perhaps. Or perhaps it is... ‘resignation’.

It’s ten minutes before her right hand stops. Morgana has her own hand atop Orianna’s ( it’s warm, she notes again ) and is dragging it forward. She takes this as a sign to change her touch, moving her left hand up to Morgana’s head and petting gently - just in time to cause Morgana’s words to catch in her throat.

“You are strange, Orianna.”

“Yes.”

“And very kind.”

“I am glad you think so. I...” It is her turn to lose her voice as she feels lips press against the back of her captured hand. Ah. Ah. She stares down at joined hands for a while, unsure what it means or much of anything besides that Morgana’s lips are warm as well. Everything about this woman is warm, it seems. She hears Morgana clear her throat ( is this nervousness? discontent? awkwardness? ) and shifts down. Her fingers slip out of Morgana’s, one finger now upon the jawline to slowly turn Morgana’s head to her side. Until she is staring right into Morgana’s eyes, the faint hum of electricity glowing behind her gaze.

Very slowly, she leans in and places her lips against the right cheek.

“You are being very tender today.” A pleasant hum of surprise. A sinking feeling in the heart, that perhaps that was not quite enough.

“Yes.”

“Why are you so kind to me?” It is curiosity, not pity that drives the question.

“I enjoy taking care of you.” Stated as simply as anything else, of course.

“...I do not think you understand what that means, Orianna.” It was a loaded statement, it meant a lot more than the simple, literal meanings that always left Orianna’s lips. Morgana turns  her gaze to the side as lips meet her cheek again.

“Yes, I do. I want to make you happy.”

“You... can’t say things like that.” Warm, warm, warm.

“Oh. I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you, Miss Morgana.”

“You didn’t.”

[fatebreaking-a]

Smash or pass for Ori uwu

Orianna’s face is entirely blank as she stares forward. Rather suddenly and very comically, steam begins to pour out of her ears as the usual electric blue glow to her eyes turns a very soft, warm pink. She tips her head down and closes her eyes, exhaling sparks off her lips.

“I’m inexperienced, but please take care of me.”

Hey. Hey Orianna, who taught you how to speak like that?!

Smash.

[fatebreaking-a]

Cuddles Ori .

yea you cuddle her real good

Based off of (using pose as reference, I mean) [this] piece I found and the pixiv link is dead and I traced it back to tumbles funny how that works. idk. idkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. I can’t draw morg’s hair ever ever ever.

please don’t reblog unless you’re @ligatusalas kthnx.